A MISTAKE.
It will be remembered that Emmie had, in the morning, tried the patience
of Bruce by her strange indecision regarding a second change of
apartments. It was now no superstitious fancy which made Emmie look upon
the room next the haunted chamber as a post of peril. She entertained a
dread lest Harper should on some night omit his usual precautions, and
that Bruce should discover the presence of his dangerous neighbour. What
then might ensue? The spirited young man would never suffer himself to
be tied by such an oath as his sister had taken; and of the consequences
which might follow his refusal Emmie trembled to think. It was this
peril to Bruce which made Emmie regard a change of rooms as desirable on
her brother's account, though certainly not on her own.
"It would be very dreadful to me to know that only a wall divided me
from that wicked man who threatened my life!" thought poor Emmie. "How
could I rest if I heard him stealthily moving about so near, even though
aware that he could not possibly reach me?" Had the maiden known that
there was actually a door in that dividing wall, her terror would have
been yet greater. But Emmie believed that the corridor entrance being
bricked up, there was no outlet from the haunted chamber but by the door
which opened on the secret stairs. Ignorant as she was of the means of
nearer communication between the two apartments, it was but the strain
on her nerves that Emmie dreaded when suggesting her own return to the
room which had been assigned to her at the first.
But this dread was so great, that, as we have seen, Emmie could not in
the morning summon up courage to press the arrangement on Bruce. She had
wavered, hesitated, drawn back. But Emmie had learned much during the
last few painful hours; the effect which her uncle's warnings had failed
to produce, followed the solemn teachings of conscience by the widow's
death-bed. Humbly and prayerfully Emmie now resolved to bend all her
efforts to conquer mistrust, to subdue the opposition of shrinking
nature, and obey God's will at however painful a cost. Emmie determined
to brave Bruce's displeasure at her apparent inconsistency and folly,
and return to the hated room, in which her danger would at any rate be
less than that of her brother.
But Emmie had on that evening no opportunity of carrying out her
resolution. Bruce returned to Myst Court at his usual hour, but looking
and feeling so ill, that he could not be troubled with anything in the
way of household arrangements. He had one of the severe attacks of
headache to which the young man was subject.
"I shall not be with you at dinner to-day," said Bruce to his sister;
"like a bear, I shall keep in my den, and have my growl out by myself.
I've my fire ready lit, my kettle on the hob, and my little tea-caddy on
the table. I want nothing but quiet and rest, and shall be all right in
the morning."
Bruce was proverbially a bad patient, and would never submit to what he
called coddling. Emmie knew that he now meant what he said, and that she
should only annoy her brother by offering to sit beside him, or bring
him food which he would not touch. The brother and sister, therefore,
bade each other good-night; and Bruce, taking a lighted candle, with
slow step mounted the staircase, then drew back the heavy tapestry
curtain, and passed on to his own apartment.
The fire blazed and crackled cheerily. Bruce, instead of going to rest
at once, drew a chair in front of it, seated himself with his feet on
the fender, and pressing his hot forehead with his hand, remained for
some time in absolute stillness. He let his mind rest as well as his
frame, not fatiguing it by following out any definite chain of ideas.
Thus young Trevor remained till he heard from below the sound of the
gong which summoned the family to dinner. About five minutes afterwards,
Bruce raised his head to listen to a different sound, much nearer to
where he sat. It came from a place from whence he had never before heard
the faintest noise. There was--he could not be mistaken--the voice of
some one speaking in the haunted chamber!
Bruce's sensation on hearing it was not that of fear, scarcely even that
of curiosity. When once young Trevor had taken an idea into his mind, he
was wont to hold it with a pertinacity which savoured of obstinacy.
Bruce was very slow to own, even to himself, that he had made a mistake.
The notion now in the young man's brain was that his giddy brother had
determined to try his courage by playing on him some practical joke.
Vibert's sudden proposal to go up to London Bruce considered but as an
attempt to throw dust into his eyes, and to put him off his guard; and
the elder brother smiled to himself at the idea of Vibert's imagining
that he really could take him in by so transparent an attempt at
deception.
"Vibert is no more in London at this moment than I am," had been the
reflection of Bruce. "He never thought of going thither till I casually
let out that it is possible to enter the haunted chamber." And now, when
a voice was heard in that chamber, Bruce but knitted his brow, and
muttered impatiently to himself, "Could he not have kept his foolery for
a better time; I am in no mood for nonsense to-night."
Another voice seemed to reply to the first, both speaking in low tones,
and not distinctly enough for the import of their words to be understood
by the listening Bruce. Still his suspicions were not aroused, for the
power to mimic various tones was one of the accomplishments which added
to Vibert's popularity in ladies' society. Then followed a creaking
sound, as of the winding of a windlass, or the turning of the screw of a
press. This puzzled Bruce, and made him alter his first intention of
simply locking the door of communication between the two rooms, and so
imprisoning the pseudo-ghost till the morning. Young Trevor, of course,
knew nothing of the third door of the bricked-up chamber, or the secret
staircase beyond it.
"I may as well put an end to this folly at once," said Bruce, rising
and looking around for some convenient weapon with which to chastise, or
rather to alarm, the disturber of his repose. He took up his gun, but
did not attempt to load it. Why should he do so when he had no intention
of startling the household and frightening his sister by the sudden
report of fire-arms? Vibert would not be able to tell by a glance
whether the gun were or were not loaded. The object of Bruce was to
frighten, but not to injure his brother.
The next thing to be done was to get the door-key, which Bruce had left
on his mantel-piece. He scarcely expected to find it there still, but
there it was.
"Vibert must have taken the precaution of replacing after using it,"
thought Bruce, as he took up the key; "and he has been artful enough to
leave my map still hanging up over the panel-door."
Very softly Bruce now lifted off the large varnished map from its nail,
and laid it down on the floor. His object was, by his sudden appearance
with his gun, to startle his brother. Noiselessly Bruce turned the key
in the lock, noiselessly pushed open the door in the panel, then
suddenly sprang into the lighted chamber, with a loud exclamation of
"Ha! have I caught you at it?" To Bruce's amazement, as well as their
own, he found himself confronted by Harper and Colonel Standish!
It is not to be denied that on his sudden recognition of these
night-visitors, whom nought but an evil purpose could have brought to
that place, to the heart of the youth "the life-blood thrilled with
sudden start." But Harper had now no timid girl to deal with. Raising
his unloaded gun so as to cover now the one man, then the other, Bruce
in a loud voice demanded, "Villains! what do ye here?"
Seizing the instant when the gun was pointed at his companion, Standish
made a dart forwards and struck up the arm of Bruce. In another moment
the two were locked in a deadly grapple.
Even then Bruce Trevor retained his presence of mind. Wrestling and
struggling as he was, with a hand stronger than his own griping at his
throat, and stifling the cry of "Robbers! help!" which would have burst
from his lips, Bruce did his utmost to back through the doorway into his
room. Could he but reach his bell-rope, he could bring his father and
the servant to his assistance, and so overcome and perhaps capture his
assailants. But in vain the young man struggled and strained every
muscle in his frame, too closely grappled with by Standish to be able
even to strike with the but-end of his gun. The strength of Bruce was
failing, though not his courage; the odds were too heavy against him.
While Standish, with throttling grasp, was pinning him against the wall,
Harper, with some heavy instrument, came and struck the youth on the
head. Bruce saw no more, felt no more than the one sharp pang of the
blow. He fell heavily on the floor, at the mercy of the ruffians whose
lurking-place he had on that night discovered!
In the meantime, the master of Myst Court was calmly sipping his claret,
and telling to his daughter amusing stories of old adventures, all
unconscious of the fearful scene going on within the walls of his own
dwelling.